


Agent of Mercy

by misscai



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Origin Story, Post-Omnic Crisis, Pre-HQ Explosion, but I love her so she gets an origin story, this is basically all exposition for my OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscai/pseuds/misscai
Summary: Jack, Angela, and Lena respond to an evacuation call from a hospital that has just been attacked by an anti-omnic extremist cell. Angela picks up a new recruit for Overwatch.(shameless OC story, as per usual for me)





	Agent of Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of ages, everyone is basically aged down/up to fit my needs so... imagine Jack and Angela as like mid-thirties and Lena as like 20ish.
> 
> Cai is the name, bending the canon universe rules is the game.

“Why would they target a hospital?” Angela asked with obvious distress as the Overwatch team unloaded from the transport. “And why didn't we know earlier?” Some portions of the building were collapsed, smoke drifting out of the upper floor windows. Local firefighters were spraying water on the worst of the flames, and policemen had several masked suspects in custody. There were several ambulances present as well, with medical staff working on the evacuated patients.

“They're an anti-omnic extremist group,” Jack said, looking over the scene with distaste. “This hospital had omnic staff members.” He turned his attention to a man who looked to be coordinating the relief efforts, earning a salute when he approached. “Has everyone been evacuated?”

“No, sir. Only those closest to the fires in the west wing.” Jack nodded and glanced to Lena and Angela.

“Start evacuating the rest of the building. I'm going to speak with the response teams, then I'll join you.” Lena gave a two-fingered salute, then disappeared in a flash of blue. Angela paused, still looking at Jack.

“Why didn't we know?”

“We can't know everything,” he said with a sigh. “We just... do what we can.”

.

The interior of the hospital looked like a movie. Fluorescent lights flickered through a haze of smoke, with debris cluttering the floor. Angela couldn't help noticing the remains of several omnics, riddled with bullet holes and slumped against the walls. She had fought against omnics, had had no qualms about destroying those that were violent and averse to peace, but these? They were coexisting with humans, saving their lives, and they were gunned down as if they were Null Sector soldiers. She couldn't bear it.

A cough down the hallway caught Angela's attention, and she moved to follow it. Through the smoke, she could see two bodies, both crouched outside a patient's room. Angela couldn't see what they were doing, but there was the murmur of a female voice, followed by a pained groan muffled by fabric. She approached the two slowly, aware that they may be remnants of the extremist group.

“That's the tourniquet done,” the young woman was saying, brushing a strand of hair out of the eyes of her companion—a male, Angela could see now. “I'm taking out the shrapnel now, okay? Bite down.” With a quick but careful motion, the woman slid a chunk of metal out of the man's calf. He shouted again, his face buried in a balled-up jacket. “Almost done, handsome. Just a bandage left. Then I'm going to get you out of here.” She worked with an efficiency that Angela admired, cutting off the man's pant leg at the knee and wrapping up the wound with a clean roll of gauze. “Alright. Up we go.” She draped the man's arm around her shoulders and grunted as she hoisted him to his feet. “Everything good? No dizziness?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Good. Don't put weight on that leg, alright? I've got this side covered. Ready?” He nodded again, and they started a slow limp down the hall. Angela snapped out of her daze, rushing towards them. Before she could get close, however, the woman had released the man, standing in front of him with her arms spread out—a human shield between him and Angela—and a scowl on her face.

“A moment, please!” Angela raised her hands up, her fingers splayed to show she had no weapon. “My name is Doctor Angela Ziegler. I'm a medic with the Overwatch team. I'm here to help.” There was a moment of hesitation, then the woman motioned for Angela to approach.

“We're on the third floor. There's a staff suite on the first floor, down the left hall behind the front desk. You can get to it by the stairwell at the end of this hall. Take Henry there and see what you can do to help the others. There's about twenty people. I'm going to check up on the other wing.”

“Understood. Here,” Angela said, retrieving an extra earpiece and handing it to the woman. “There are three members of Overwatch here: myself, Lena Oxton, and Jack Morrison. Use this radio if you run into any trouble.” She squinted at the woman's chest, where a name tag was pinned. “Doctor Farrell, is it?”

“Just a nurse. Ingrid Farrell.” She rolled her shoulders and turned back to Henry, who was leaning against the wall. “Hey, Henry, Miss Angela is going to take care of you for now, okay? She's going to get you downstairs and then I'll be back to check on you.” He nodded, and Angela draped his arm over her shoulder, heading for the stairwell.

.

The staff suite that Ingrid had mentioned was, true to her word, full of other patients. Angela helped Henry to a seat, her eyes wide at all that the hospital nurse had accomplished. Twenty-two patients in various stages of injury were sprawled around the room. Some of the least injured men were sitting around a card table, crowbars and fire hatchets in their laps.

“You're not Ingrid,” one of them said, his eyes sharp and unfriendly as he looked at Angela.

“No. I'm Doctor Ziegler, with Overwatch. Are any of you in traumatic condition?”

“Not a chance. Ing's been looking out for us.”

“She seems to be a remarkable woman,” Angela said, motioning around the room. “Did she escort you all here herself?”

“Yeah. Most of the other staff ran. Or got killed.” The man shrugged, licking a bead of blood that had welled up on his busted lip. Angela's brow furrowed.

“I don't understand. The doctors would just leave you at the mercy of a threat?”

“We're all military men in non-critical condition. The docs would've figured we could handle ourselves. And we did, with Ing's help.” He nodded towards a blanket in the corner that Angela had missed. A bloody hand stuck out from one side. “Two of the bastards tried to bust in, but we haven't seen any others since.”

“The police have several in custody outside. I imagine the situation is handled, with the exception of evacuation.” Angela reached around to her back, retrieving her caduceus staff and adjusting the settings. “If you'll point me in the direction of the most injured man, I can begin healing you all. My colleague can escort you outside after—”

“I need help, right now!” Ingrid's voice, tinged with anger and panic, burst through the comm piece in Angela's ear.

“Who's that?” Lena asked, but Angela ignored her.

“What—”

“The doorway, it's collapsed, I can't get through! I have to get through!” Ingrid was shouting now.

“Where are you, Miss Farrell?” Angela's grip on her staff was white-knuckled, nervousness running through her veins in response to Ingrid's emotions.

“The west wing, third floor!”

“Understood. I'm on my way. Lena, can you get there?”

“Headed over, Doctor Z,” Lena responded immediately.

“I apologize, but I'll have to leave you again,” Angela said to the men, who were all staring at her now. “If you'll all remain here, I'll send someone back for you.”

“What's going on with Ing?” The man with the busted lip had leaned forward in his chair, his hand on his crowbar.

“She is unable to reach patients in the west wing. The third floor doorway has collapsed.” When the man's face paled, Angela felt a twist of dread in her stomach. “What is on the third floor?”

“The maternity hall,” he said, and pushed himself to his feet. Several others around the room, those with uninjured legs—and even some, like Henry, who could hardly walk—stood up. “We'll take you there, Doc.”

“Very well,” she said with a decisive nod, aiming her caduceus staff at Henry and activating its healing stream. His eyes went wide as his skin knit itself back together, the pain receding and leaving him fully recovered. “I will do the same for the rest of you as we go.”

.

Lena and Ingrid were struggling to move chunks of wall and ceiling when Angela arrived with her team of newly-healed soldiers. All the men immediately set to work, hauling away the largest pieces that they could manage. The moment that a gap appeared, Ingrid was scrambling through it; after a shared glance, Lena and Angela followed.

It was horrible for Angela to wish that she had been met with the cries of mothers or the wails of babies, but it was worse to emerge on the other side of the rubble wall and find nothing but silence. Most of the smoke had escaped through broken windows; the fires had been extinguished. The only thing that remained was the destruction of an entire hospital floor, and all the death that came with it.

Ingrid, with a stiffened spine, started walking down the hall, stopping at every room to look inside. Lena looked around with tears in her eyes. Angela tried and failed not to notice the shattered glass of a NICU incubator, and the tiny blanket inside it.

“Why would they do this?” Lena asked, her voice soft and brokenhearted.

“This was their entry point,” Ingrid said numbly, returning to the two women after finishing her trail down the hall. “They broke the windows at the end of the hall and started throwing homemade bombs.”

“But why here? These are babies.”

“There were a lot of omnics working as nurses here, especially since they don't have all the needs a human does. They can monitor at-risk babies, and stay overnight to watch laboring mothers. It's an anti-omnic group's perfect target.” Ingrid rubbed an arm across her eyes, smearing her tear-wet mascara. “They weren't shot. Most likely it was smoke inhalation that killed them. I wasn't fast enough.”

“You couldn't have known,” Angela said gently. “This is a tragedy, but you can't blame yourself. You have to think of those that you did save.”

“It doesn't make it any easier.”

“No,” she acquiesced, “it doesn't.” There was a moment of quiet between the three of them, then Angela noticed the blood staining Ingrid's skin and clothes. “Were you injured, Miss Farrell?”

“Nothing serious. Cuts and bruises.”

“Would you like me to heal you?”

“No.” Ingrid glanced down at a scrape on her palm, clenching her fist around the raw skin. “I need the reminder.”

.

Jack met the group as they emerged from the hospital, his eyebrow raised at Ingrid when he noticed the comm piece in her ear. In response, she took it out and offered it back to Angela. The healer didn't accept it, just glanced at Jack before taking Ingrid's free hand in hers.

“I would like to offer you a position in Overwatch,” she said. “You showed extreme resilience and courage in the face of danger, and you have skill as a medic. We could use your talents.”

“I'm not a doctor,” Ingrid said.

“I am willing to train you in any skills you find you're lacking.” When Ingrid hesitated, Angela squeezed her hand. “You have a good heart, Miss Farrell. Overwatch is comprised of people with good hearts, people who want to fight for peace. This could be a great opportunity for you to make the world a better place.”

“What will happen to my patients?” Ingrid motioned to the men gathered loosely around the paramedics, helping where they could. “They're my responsibility.”

“I've healed them, and I'll be healing the remainder of the victims before we leave.” Angela released Ingrid's hand, taking a step back. “You won't need to worry about them.” Ingrid considered this for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“Okay. As long as they're alright, I'll go with you.”

.

The Swiss base was large and sprawling, a complex of several one-and-two-story buildings arranged around a central courtyard. Angela walked with Ingrid, giving her a brief tour of the training building, Winston's lab, the rec hall and cafeteria, and the barracks. Introductions were made along the way: Ana Amari and her daughter Fareeha, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Torbjorn Lindholm, and Winston. Lena and Jack made formal introductions, as well.

“There aren't many people here, for a famous international organization,” Ingrid commented idly, following Angela to the medical bay.

“We have agents deployed almost constantly, and we also have operatives permanently stationed at watchpoints all over the world. This is only the headquarters for Overwatch.” Angela walked straight to her desk, which was in a messy state of organization. “Do you have any experience with cybernetics, Miss Farrell?”

“Just Ingrid is fine,” the younger woman said, examining the files that Angela handed to her. “I've done a little basic maintenance on omnics at the hospital, but nothing extensive. What are these blueprints?”

“Two of our agents have cybernetic enhancements that need routine care. I am primarily a field medic, so I am often on deployment and cannot be around to keep their augmentations in top condition. I was hoping that you'd be willing to learn how to do so, and remain on-base here to tend to their care and any medical issues that arise while I am on missions.”

“I can do that. I'll need to see more than just blueprints, though.”

“They're out on deployment right now, but I'll have them report to you as soon as they've returned and debriefed.” Angela folded her hands atop the desk, taking a moment to breathe and smile at Ingrid. “I'm very pleased you're here, Ingrid. I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” Ingrid offered a small smile in return, the first that Angela had seen from her. It made her look younger, less serious, and much warmer. Angela thought that this was a woman she could become good friends with. “Can you tell me anything about the other Overwatch agents?”

“Are you asking me for gossip?”

“I suppose so,” Ingrid said with a laugh, visibly relaxing as the two women settled into a less professional conversation.

“Well, you've met Jack Morrison. He's our commander, alongside Gabriel Reyes—though rumor has it that the UN is preparing to promote one of them to Strike Commander.”

“Who will get it?”

“I couldn't say. Jack is much more of a people person, but Gabriel has a very high mission success rate. They're both very efficient leaders.” Ingrid nodded, then lifted the cybernetic blueprints.

“Who do these belong to?”

“Jesse McCree has had his left arm amputated at the elbow, and refitted with a fully-functional replacement. He's quite rough with it, though, so it constantly needs maintenance. I'm sure he will test your patience, but he's a very sweet boy.”

“Boy? How old is he?”

“25 now, as of last month. Perhaps he isn't a boy after all, though I suspect I'll always see him as such. He has that boyish charm about him.” She pointed to the second file. “Genji Shimada is your second patient. I... will have to explain his circumstances, I suppose. He and his elder brother Hanzo were raised to be the heirs of a prominent Japanese family. When Genji failed to perform to his father's standards, Hanzo was tasked to kill him.”

“Christ,” Ingrid murmured, a crease forming between her brows. “He didn't go through with it, did he?”

“He did. Overwatch had been monitoring the Shimada clan after rumors of illegal weapons trading surfaced. I was on a reconnaissance mission in Hanamura with Jack; we witnessed the fight from our post. Genji was horribly mutilated, near death. I saved as much of him as I could, but he has extensive augmentations. He refers to himself as a 'cyborg' quite often.”

“Will I need to keep an eye on his mental state? I'm not professionally trained in psychology or therapy, but I've been around a lot of patients with PTSD and I've read a few books about the subject.”

“It wouldn't be your primary task, but I would appreciate it.” Angela tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a sudden wave of sadness washing over her. “Our agents undergo a lot of stress, and are subjected to devastating situations with every mission they take. Everyone here has experienced some kind of loss in their lives.”

“I was too late to save those people in the hospital," Ingrid said quietly. "I won't make those mistakes again. I'll do everything that I can for this team, Angela. I promise.” Angela smiled, standing up and extending a hand for Ingrid to shake.

“Then welcome to Overwatch.”


End file.
